


Epicenter

by psyraah



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Happy Birthday Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Shiro Birthday Exchange 2018, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 13:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13836198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/pseuds/psyraah
Summary: At some stage or another, Shiro has always managed to surprise them, never quite just what he seemed on the surface. Now it's time to repay the favour.A 4 + 1 fic of when Shiro surprised his team, and the one time they managed to surprise him back.





	Epicenter

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to the loveliest boy.

_1\. The Legs of Voltron_

It was the first night that they truly bonded, or so Shiro would think when he looked back on it. One of the early days of their time together, when the Castle was still unfamiliar and its occupants were still almost entirely strangers.

The three new faces—Garrison cadets, Keith told him, although Keith didn’t seem to know them either—had organised a karaoke night. “It’s the best way to get to know each other,” Lance had explained as he’d tried to wrestle a cable away from the mice. Shiro wasn’t entirely sure that screaming your lungs out with a bunch of new people was the best way to get to know each other, but what did he know? Out of all of them, he was probably the most out of practice with making friends. And Lance seemed into it, and no one had any objections except for Keith and his nervous grumbling, so Shiro let it go ahead.

In the end, it turned out that Lance had known what he was talking about.

Oh, it started off awkward enough. Despite knowing Lance, Pidge was obviously too uncomfortable around the newcomers to really get into it, and Hunk was trying to back up his best friend but with a far quieter voice. Allura and Coran were making polite yet mystified faces as the newly minted legs of Voltron belted out YMCA, just the two of them. Then there came Uptown Girl. And Living on a Prayer.

And it was getting increasingly awkward, and the pair were getting increasingly out of breath. But they were powering through, determined to make it happen—Lance screaming like a maniac and Hunk frowning in deep concentration—and Shiro felt his heart soften.

So when Bohemian Rhapsody came on, Shiro stood up with a smile to grab a mic. He slung one arm around Lance’s shoulders, the other around Hunk’s, and started to sing.

Hunk turned, falling silent for a moment as he stared at Shiro. But Shiro just gestured at the screen, still grinning. _We’ve got a song to sing._

Lance let out a delighted woop. “All right! You’re the man Shiro!”

Pidge didn’t seem entirely surprised, although he seemed harder to faze than the others. Hunk was still gaping, but his smile was slowly growing, so Shiro counted that as a victory. As for Lance, he was staring, wide-eyed and looking like he just saw a meteor shower. But Shiro knew that he still had a little bit of a hero worship thing going on there, so he just smiled wider, and sang louder.

After a beat, Lance did the same, and the team’s heart truly began to bloom.

 

_2\. Katie Holt_

Pidge didn’t expect anyone to figure her out that quickly.

But Shiro was Shiro, and although he was different now (and she tried not to think of all the ways Matt would be different), she could still see the same boy that her brother had talked about so often. The guileless light in his eyes, the steady piloting, his trusting nature.

So she shouldn’t have been surprised when he knew.

But maybe it was because she hadn’t heard it in so long. Maybe it was because it was something she left behind when she went to the Garrison. It was something gentle that she had to shed, had to protect to get through the grief of having her family torn apart and the betrayal in the lies everyone fed her.

Because when he said her name, she almost felt like crying.

“Katie.” Shiro’s smile was gentle, and understanding.

She hadn’t heard her name in so long.

It felt like coming home.

(Home, to her mother, and her father, and her brother. Home, scattered across the winds of the universe.)

Overcome, she dived into his arms.

Although she didn’t see it, above her, Shiro’s eyes widened in his own surprise. Something flashed across his face—grief, pain, terrified hope—but then his expression softened.

He hugged her back, and let them both take comfort.

 

_3\. Altea's grief_

It wasn’t often that Shiro caught Allura off guard. She was, for all intents and purposes, the owner of their ship and the leader of their little brigade, and all too often, she acted like it. That went doubly so for Coran—he was like a father figure to all of them, appearing seemingly whenever one of them needed the comfort.

So maybe it shouldn’t have been all that surprising to stumble across the two Alteans sitting together on the observation deck one night, especially since it had been mere days since they’d had to destroy Alfor’s memories. But still, Shiro was so lost in his own thoughts that he was startled to see two figures turn towards him when he had expected nothing but darkness, the Alteans clearly surprised to hear the door slide open.

“Ah…” Shiro hesitated in the near darkness. “Sorry, I’ll just—”

“Oh, Shiro,” Allura said. “You surprised me.” She was smiling softly, but Shiro could still see the edges of pain there. Of grief. Of loneliness.

The shadows he felt in his own heart.

“It’s fine,” he said, starting to back away. It was clearly a personal moment, and looking around the room, Shiro felt both vulnerable, and like an intruder. “I was just—”

This time it was Coran who interrupted. “Shiro, come sit with us.” He beckoned from where he was seated next to Allura. “It’s peaceful.”

Shiro hesitated again, but he was tired. He needed some quiet, and perhaps somewhere he didn’t have to bury his grief. So after another brief’s moment hesitation, he sat next to Allura, who was casting her gaze around the room, sorrow in every breath.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said, after a while. “It must be hard.”

Allura watched the room, grief in her eyes. “We are at war. We must all live through hardship.”

Around them, holograms of Alfor flickered warm blue light. Unlike what had been stored in the Castle’s memory, these didn’t react to their presence, instead looping footage silently. A far younger Allura darted in front of the three of them, straight into her father’s arms, and beside Shiro, Allura looked on.

“It felt safe, being with him,” she murmured. “Even when Zarkon betrayed us. I thought that we would survive as a family. Together.”

Wordlessly, Coran patted her knee.

Shiro cleared his throat, feeling compelled to speak. “I miss my father.” He never spoke of him, because the mere thought of it made his heart ache. To say the words now? It tore it to shreds. “I mean, it’s nothing like—he’s still on Earth. I think. But…”

Allura glanced at him, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “You are apart. That is enough.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again,” Shiro blurted. “He—he probably thinks I’m dead. The others—they still have enough of home to hope that they could get back. I don’t mean—Pidge obviously has been through a lot, and they all have. I didn’t mean to make it out like I was the only—”

Coran rested a hand on his shoulder. “You are apart,” Coran echoed. “It’s a terrible grief, isn’t it?”

Shiro swallowed. “Yeah,” he managed. “It is.”

“But it’s a comfort to share it with others,” Allura said softly, reaching out to another hologram of Alfor as he passed through her hand. “In an odd way. It’s why we’re here.”

She turned to him, and her expression was softer than the harsh lines of grief that had crossed her face before. “Thank you for sharing, Shiro. It…is heartening to know that you don’t view this as a weakness.”

“I came here ‘cause I couldn’t sleep, after everything,” he said, a quiet confession to the dark. “I didn’t expect your acceptance either. But…thank you. It…”

It did what? It had helped him, certainly, but that seemed to be too shallow a word for the way he felt like a weight had been lifted.

There was a twinkle in Coran’s eye as he laid a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

“I know, my boy.” Warmth radiated from where his hand lay on Shiro’s shoulder. “I know.”

 

_4\. Flashback_

_The dining hall at the Garrison was its usual mess of boisterous, indistinct noise, and Shiro’s own tray clattered in harmony as he collected today’s unidentifiable mass of food. It had been a long day, and the noise was beginning to grate on his nerves._

_Not to mention he was still burning with embarrassment from the incident yesterday, whenever his mind turned from assignments and homework and extracurriculars. Running into another cadet had been bad enough. Running into another cadet and mowing the other person_ over _was even worse._

 _Keith, he knew. The boy’s name was Keith, which Shiro only knew because he’d trailed after the kid, apologising profusely, before he was dragged away by a fellow cadet without even getting the chance to see if Keith_ really _knew how sorry he was. Or check if Keith had a concussion._

_“Keith,” he’d been told, when his distress at not getting the other’s name had been clearly evident. “But why are you chasing him?”_

I don’t want him to have a concussion _seemed to be too difficult to explain, so he let it slide._

_But, when he next saw the familiar mop of black hair in the dining hall, he wasn’t going to do the same again._

_“You guys go ahead without me,” he said, waving over his shoulder at the friends he’d been with. “I’m just gonna say hi to someone.”_

_“Shiro, what—”_

_“I’ll catch you guys later,” he said, before he hurried off._

_He slowed as he approached the table, suddenly unsure how to go about it all. Keith seemed to be very intent on eating his food, keeping his eyes on his plate. After a moment of hovering near the table, Shiro suspected he was avoiding looking up deliberately._

_“Uh, hi.”_

_Keith looked up, and froze._

_Well. That was promising._

_“Keith, right?” Shiro persisted. “We ran into each other yesterday.”_

_Slowly, Keith nodded. “Yeah. That’s me.” His spoke quieter than Shiro expected, but Shiro could see the way his shoulders tensed, readying for a fight. “Did I hurt you or something? ‘Cause I’m sorry, but I’ve got nothing to—”_

_“No, no,” Shiro said quickly. He put his tray down, tugging at his bangs. “I was just—is this seat taken?”_

_Keith blinked. “Um. No…?”_

_“Can I sit here then?”_

_“…Go ahead.”_

_Keith sounded wary, and slightly baffled at the request. Which was fine, because Shiro wasn’t too sure what he was doing either. But he figured it never hurt to have new friends, and Keith looked like he needed one. The Garrison wasn’t a friendly place sometimes, and being on your own all the time could get lonely._

_“I’m Shiro, by the way.”_

_Keith studied him for another moment, before turning back to his food. “I know who you are.”_

_“Right. Um. Cool.” Shiro beamed at him, but Keith wasn’t even looking._

_The rest of their lunch was quiet, except for Shiro asking Keith what classes he had later. The rest of the week was more of the same._

_But slowly, little by little, Keith started to open up. And slowly, little by little, so did Shiro, in ways he didn’t expect._

_Years later, Keith would confess that he never expected Shiro stay._

_Years later, Shiro would keep surprising him._

 

_+1: Happy birthday_

Shiro should’ve suspected.

In hindsight, it was almost hilarious that he didn’t realise.

Keith was _terrible_ at keeping secrets. He was honest to a fault; it was something that Shiro loved about him, really, but that boy could not lie to save his life. So Shiro knew _something_ was up. He could tell as soon as he opened his door.

“Keith.”

But instead of the usual smile, there was an awkward grimace, and an ungainly beckoning motion. “Um. I need you.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t break something, did you? You know you’re better off asking Pidge to help with that.”

But Keith shook his head, reaching for Shiro’s hand and tugging insistently. “No, I didn’t break anything. Why do you assume the worst?”

“Because you’re acting weird.”

Keith huffed. “I’m not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“What are you, six?”

“Actually—”

“Forget I said that,” Keith said quickly, and that was even weirder, because Keith looked…panicked.

Shiro frowned. “Keith, are you sure everything’s all right? You’re acting—”

“Just shush.” Keith turned around, grimacing. “I’m really bad at this. Can you just—no more questions for another two minutes? And then I’ll make sense, I promise.”

Shiro let it go reluctantly. “All right.” He sighed. “But.” He slipped his communicator out of his pocket, setting a timer. “You have two minutes.”

When Keith swore, yanking on his arm to drag him down the corridor, Shiro cackled.

One minute and twenty-nine seconds later saw them at the door to the kitchen. Shiro looked at Keith again, confused. “I would’ve expected at least an outdoors excursion with all the secrecy—”

“I said no questions!” Scowling, Keith slammed his palm against the reader, and shoved Shiro inside.

And when the lights dimmed, Shiro’s protests died on his lips.

Keith’s hand stayed long enough in Shiro’s own for him to realise that there was no threat. For him to take a moment to see his friends ranged in front of him, little lights scattered across the table to brighten up already bright smiles.

And then Keith’s fingers slipped away as he joined the others, and they started singing.

Singing the birthday song.

Oh boy, it was his birthday?

Judging from the way they were all grinning like idiots, it _was_ his birthday. He didn’t know how they figured it out—probably Pidge again—but then none of it mattered when he caught movement from the corner of his eye, and Hunk started wheeling in a _massive_ cake.

Shiro’s heart felt so full.

In his pocket, his timer went off, but he didn’t even notice. Instead, his eyes were glued on the cake, sweeping around the room to look at his friends, feeling the love in the room.

“You do so much for us,” Hunk said, beaming. He slid the cake down in front of Shiro, and Shiro didn’t know how to tell him that they lifted his heart as much as he hoped he did for them. His team. His family.

Around him, the disjointed singing gave way to cheers and clapping, and Shiro’s cheeks ached from grinning.

“I—you guys.” He swallowed, emotion making it hard to speak. “You—thank you. _Thank you_.”

“Don’t sweat it, big guy!” Lance called, letting out a piercing wolf whistle that had Pidge elbowing him in the ribs.

“Make a wish, Takashi,” Keith said. His smile was soft as he watched, ignoring the way Lance was trying to get around an immovable Coran to enact his revenge on Pidge.

Watching them, he felt his heart blossom. In the flickering candlelight, Allura and Keith were watching him fondly. Coran was standing regally in front of a squawking Lance, hiding a cackling Pidge. After everything—fear, and darkness, and a war that was far too long—this was what he fought for.

Shiro took a deep breath and gently carried them into darkness as he extinguished the candles.

And wished forever to stay like this, with his heart, and his home.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated! If you can, sharing on [Tumblr](http://shiroganedefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/171711940869/epicenter-my-contribution-to-vldexchange-for) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/starchydreams/status/969174413106061312) would also be very appreciated. Thank you for reading!


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